Don't Drop The Soap
by The Petulant Prodigy
Summary: "Don't thank me just yet. If ya change yer mind, don't drop the soap." Jail sex. Simple, right? GrimmIchi AU Yaoi
1. Chapter 1

A request made from a friend of mine. A challenge, haha. I had so much fun with this one I'm thinking of adding more chapters, but we'll have to wait and see.

Warning: no plot. Honestly, do we even need one? Jail sex is pretty much every pervert's fantasy, including mine, so here we go. Warning: rape, I guess. It's rated M for a reason, kids.

Hehehehohohoproductions, this one's for you.

**-Don't Drop The Soap-**

"Ha-ha," an inmate said, his face made extra-creepy by the lack of eyes presented to me. His hair was a startling shade of white that was nearly silver, his smile showing no teeth, and with the slanted look of his closed eyes, I couldn't help but think how much this psycho looked like a snake, "Ne, fresh meat."

My back stiffened as I looked away; bad enough I had drawn attention to myself by walking into the Common Room of the penitentiary. Bad enough I hadn't been allowed to dye my hair a more normal shade before being thrown in this hell pit they called prison for the next year. Las Noches Penitentiary was infamous for its inmate gangs, and if I expected to survive here, I had to keep myself as low on the radar as fucking humanly possible.

My little plan had been shot to shit the moment I had been admitted with fucking flaming orange hair.

"Wha's tha matter, carrot top?" the creepy inmate called to me, still seated on the top of the metal table. I looked back at him, a little surprised. He was currently swinging his legs off the edge of the table, like a small child might do.

But this guy was no small child. Far from it. If he stood up, I knew he'd be taller than me. His frame was thin, not bulky at all, although I could tell by his arms and the exposed part of his chest that he was toned and not one to mess with. His orange jumpsuit was slightly too big for him, although I supposed that was good for him considering they weren't the most comfortable pieces of clothing on the planet.

His grin made me want to shiver, but I refused to be intimidated. Weakness meant death here, so I held my head high, my eyes locked on his slitted ones.

I wanted to, but I didn't gasp when I saw they were a bright crimson. This fucking albino scared the shit out of me already, and I didn't even know his name yet.

"Ya look lost," Snake face continued, tilting his head to the side, "Yer a new one, so pretteh too."

My temper demanded I defend myself, but my sense of self-preservation told me to ignore him and keep my mouth shut. For all I knew, he was a leader of one of the gangs. I'd been here a couple days already, had heard a few things hear and there, whispered and spoken. There were basically two huge rival gangs, the Soul Reapers and the Espada. As far as I was concerned, I needed to stay the hell away from both of them if I was going to survive in here for my sentence, which stretched ahead of me like a blurry tunnel with no end.

Fuck. And all because I had just had to beat the shit out of my sister's abusive boyfriend. I had very nearly killed the kid, who had thankfully been eighteen or I might have been slapped with an even heavier sentence for assaulting a minor. Assault and battery charges were weak in this place; I couldn't let anybody know what I had been sent here for. If anybody found out, it would be my ass.

Quite literally. I was in a den of murderers, thugs, and psychopaths. Every single person in this place was doing no less than twenty years. Some of them were even sentenced to two lifetimes, which didn't make any sense to me, but whatever. They'd never see the light of day again, and here I was, a ripe, fresh ass just begging to be taken advantage of because I'm not a thug, just a kid with a bad temper and a decent uppercut.

But enough about me. Snake Face is still staring at me, although by this time he has gotten up off of the table, his hands in the pockets of his jumpsuit as he takes a few steps towards me, stopping with a smile when he sees that I have taken a step back, my body rigid.

"Ya should be a lil' nicer ta me," he drawled, that smile intimidating, "I ain't gonna bite'cha, unless ya want me 'ta."

"Fuck you," I spat, my temper finally getting the better of me. Fuck this fucker: I wasn't going to be treated like a little bitch. This guy didn't know me from Sunday; maybe if I faked a little prowess, he'd back the fuck off.

Instead he snorted, tilting his head to the side as he smirked at me, "Ya don't strike me as a top, Strawberry. I think ya'd much prefer ta have one'a us take care of that sweet ass ya got."

I knew exactly what he was trying to do; logic battled anger as I bit my lip, trying to keep myself under control. He wanted me to attack him, wanted me to snap, so that he could test my strength, feel me out. Or quite literally, FEEL ME OUT, the fucking prick. No way was this fucker taking my virginity, not in this cess pool of lesser human life forms. Sure, what I had done wasn't exactly perfect moral behavior, but considering the scum that was surrounding me, I was pretty much a saint.

"You don't know me," I finally said, crossing my arms over my chest to keep them from shaking, "You don't know anything about me."

The guy laughed, shaking his head, "Tha' name's Ichimaru Gin, fer yer future referencin' pleasure. And trust me, year's an AWFUL long time 'ta reevaluate yerself, Strawberry. Maybe ya should listen 'ta ma proposition before 'ya walk that doomed ass outta this room."

I was shocked: how the hell did he know about my sentence? He had to have his sources with the guards, which made me even more anxious. Having resources like that meant one thing: this motherfucker was powerful.

I lifted an eyebrow, my poker face still on, "What're you talking about?"

He nodded towards two chairs that were over in an unoccupied corner, ignoring the few other inmates that had been staring at the exchange, although they were too far away to have heard anything. One was a black man with dreads, a white bandanna tied around his eyes, like they were wounded. Maybe he was blind, or just one of many freaks in this monkey cage. How the hell was he playing cards like that?

Another had brown hair slicked back and a cocky face, like he thought he was king of the fucking mountain. And the third member of the poker game was a man with pink hair. I gaped at him for a second, glad that somebody else had a ridiculous hair color besides me. Surely that faggot was eating cock sandwiches several times a day. They continued their poker game, the cocky leader-looking bastard blowing smoke through the room as I finally gave in to my curiosity and took a seat, my body carefully angled away from the creep.

He took a seat too before reaching into his jumper and pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one with an expensive-looking lighter, taking a puff before offering one to me.

"I don't smoke," I reply, my arms still locked over my chest.

He grinned, blowing a stream of smoke out of his nostrils, "Neither did I. You'll find out soon tha' there's not much 'ta keep yer attention, other than eatin', smokin', and fuckin'. That's what this is really about, Berry. I'm tryin' ta do a civic duty and help 'ya out, here. I've been here a little longer than most, and I can tell 'ya how 'ta survive 'ta walk out those big metal doors with yer mind still intact."

I looked away, than back at those strange eyes, "Why would you help me?"

Gin grinned, blowing smoke in my face and annoying me, "Cuz I ain't the asshole ya think I am. I was new here once, and I had someone 'ta guide me, and now I feel like I gotta' return the favor."

"Who helped you?" I said, feeling cocky.

Gin's lips twitched, like he wanted to laugh, "It was a different kind of helpin', ya might say. Now what I'm about 'ta tell ya is very importan', so listen' up, cuz I'll only say this ta' ya once. Yer goin' ta need a protector here. Now before ya get all macho on me an' tell meh you can handle yerself, let me remind 'ya that 'ya can't. Yer a twenty-one-year-old brat with an assault charge; yer ass will be pounded purple before tomorrow mornin' if word gets out, and trust meh, I ain't the only one with the resources ta find out that kinda' information."

I was panicking internally at the man's words, my stomach so tied up in knots I felt sick, "Protection?"

"Now yer gettin' it," he said, stubbing out his cigarette in an empty paper cup, "ya got two choices: Soul Reaper or Espada. Both are gonna be after ya, especially since ya got a more slender build than some of the other newbies. And that hair…might as well paint a target on that ass 'a yers. Now, I'm gonna give ya my two cents and ya do what ya want with the information. The Shut Call of this shit hole is an Espada, so I think ya should think real long and hard about choosin' them…"

"Shut Call?" I said, the words foreign on my tongue.

Gin sighed, "The big man on campus, the guy who's got more power an' respect than anybody else in here, the leader of the Espada. Mess with him and 'yer askin' ta be sent outta here in a body bag. The guy's a complete ruthless psycho. Just killed a guy two weeks ago for starin' at his hair for too long. Laughs a lot, though, when he attacks. A good sense'a humor."

The smile Gin offered me made me want to throw up, "Why the HELL would I talk to him then?"

"Yer not listenin'," Gin said, rubbing his forehead with a hand before looking at me, irritated, "He's tha one guy in here that can guarantee yer fuckin' safety. If he owns 'ya, ain't nobody gonna mess with 'ya. Ya can count on tha', Strawberry. Anybody who messes with his property gets a fist and a coffin. Now yer prob'ly wonderin' what ya can give this guy ta protect ya, and there's only one thing in this God-forsakin' place that's got any value."

"What's that?"

"A bitch," Gin said, looking at Ichigo with a serious expression, "Become the Shut Call's bitch and you're safer than a diamond in a vault. And if ya don't become his bitch, than he's prob'ly gonna come after ya anyway. The Soul Reapers are his rivals, but he ain't got no problem takin' them on, and trust me, they don't want ta take him on. They know who holds the real power in this prison, and it ain't them. Us Espada are tough motherfuckers; we'll keep attackin' 'till we're dead."

He smirked as I realized that he was an Espada, enjoying my lost expression.

"Now since I'm sucha nice guy, I'mma tell ya exactly how 'ta get the Shut Call."

I swallowed a lump in my throat, listening to him as he explained to me that there were different shifts for the showers. Twenty-four inmates at a time, at certain times of the day. The Shut Call always took a shower on the last shift; it wouldn't be hard to go then, considering most everybody avoided the Shut Call at all costs because of his unpredictable temper.

And, maybe, because they wanted to protect their asses.

But here I was, about to offer my virgin ass to a potential psychopath on a fucking silver platter. But I wanted to get out of here without being gang-raped by every fucking scumbag in this dump, so being the bitch of the most powerful person here made more sense than whoring myself out to who knew how many other inmates.

"You lost again, Szayel," a cold, calculated voice said from the poker table.

I turned my attention over to the table, my eyes going wide as I saw the pink-haired man sigh dramatically, pushing glasses farther up his nose as he said, "I know, Aizen-sama."

"I'll take it now, then," Aizen said, smirking as Szayel got out of his chair and crawled under the table. What the hell was he doing?

I saw Szayel's hands work at the pants of Aizen's jumper, his hands pulling a ready cock free. My eyes went wide as Szayel immediately went to work, licking and sucking on it so fiercely it made my mind spin. What the hell kind of poker prize was that?

Aizen continued to clean up the cards on the table, putting them into one big stack and shuffling them, like he was completely unfazed at the blowjob, "Sometimes I think you lose on purpose, you little whore."

There was a giggle from under the table and I couldn't look anymore. Gin had a knowing look on his face. I nodded my head at him, standing up, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but…thanks."

Gin chuckled as I left the room, and I didn't stop or turn back even as he said, "Don't thank me just yet. If ya change yer mind, don't drop the soap."

**XXX **

Here it was, the moment of truth. I stepped into the steaming shower room, butt naked and extremely self-conscious. I'd been here a few days, but I'd been taking my showers in the morning to avoid as many people as possible, always keeping my ass to the wall and my eyes on the floor. I guess you could call me crazy, then, as I walked into the farthest part of the shower room, choosing a showerhead as close to the blue-haired Shut Call as possible. I pretended to ignore the others' stares as I hit the water, relaxing at the water's touch even though I felt like every nerve ending in my body was going to explode.

A person didn't usually know rape was coming, so I wasn't exactly sure how to feel about it. Anticipating it is possibly a worse feeling than having it happen to you out of the blue.

I knew he was staring at me, the Shut Call Gin had told me was named Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. I had stared at him, although I wasn't now. But what I had seen had been beyond my expectations. I wasn't gay, I wasn't, but if I was, Jesus Christ on High I'd want him to fuck me through the tile floor of the shower as often as possible. He was tall, at least 6'1'', all sleek muscle and sharp plains, his blue eyes intimidating and intense, his blue hair even more sexy as it was slicked with the water of his shower. A giant, black number 6 was tattooed on his back. He even had a strange yet sexy exotic name.

Washboard abs, check. Long, muscled legs, double check. A body that would make a demon or an angel scream in lust, check check check.

Fuck, I could have definitely gotten a worse deal than this. He didn't exactly look crazy, either, although what Gin had told me earlier that day had certainly made him seem like a raging weirdo. But standing there, under the spray, playing king of the fucking mountain, I felt my throat tighten and constrict.

But no more staring now. I had to concentrate. This had to be played exactly right, or I wouldn't get what I wanted, which was kind of sick because I wanted him to rape me. I'm not gay, never even thought of being gay. I've fucked girls plenty of times and had enjoyed it, so I know that what I'm feeling right now is nothing but nerves and a sense to survive. If I had to let this guy fuck me a few times to ensure my survival, the testosterone in me quieted to a dull roar that I could stand as I soaped myself up, paying special attention to my chest, hips, and legs.

Oh, he was watching, along with a few others at this point as I bent lower to rub soap over my calves, my ass practically singing opera on stage before I arched my back standing up straight again, turning under the spray to face outward, giving the Shut Call a good look at what I had to offer in the front as well. I had always been active, always played sports, giving my body a slightly-muscled build that wasn't bulky, the muscle tight under skin still tan considering I had been in the sunlight only a few days prior. I had cut hips and a tight ass, both things the Shut Call had been exposed to at this point. Now it was a matter of time, really.

My hair was of course soaked by this point, so I ran a hand through it a moment for good measure, deciding now was as good a time as any to do what Gin had told me to do but what the scared boy in my head was screaming not to do.

The bar of soap slipped through my fingers, falling to the ground in front of me. One long, dramatic moment later I reached down and forward to grab at the bar, only to have a foot step over the soap, blocking me.

I knew who it would be, but I had to stay calm. I took a deep, even breath before turning my buttery brown eyes up to the Shut Call, his impressive erection nearly in my face.

"Didn't anybody ever tell ya not to drop the soap?" he husked, his face looking almost excited, his teeth exposed. The snide bastard was mocking me.

I stared up at him confidently, noticing that the showers were nearly empty of people. The very tall, spoon-looking guy had left, along with a blonde and a very pale, black-haired guy that constantly looked depressed.

Another man had just walked out, saying something to the one guard assigned to the showers before a door closed in place. Fuck, this mother fucker sure worked fast. Of course the Shut Call would have a few guards under his pay roll, considering he probably pumped enough drugs through this place to supply a small country. The gangs always found a way to smuggle in what was needed to survive, and I had to keep thinking about how much better life would be here once this cocky Shut Call made me his bitch.

"Do you mind? It's gonna get dirty," I said, pointing a finger at the bar of soap under his large foot.

A very wicked grin took over Grimmjow's face as he reached out a hand and grabbed my hair with a yank, making me cry out, "Yer gonna need a lot more soap then that once I'm done with ya, Strawberry."

"It's Ichigo," I defended, hating the stupid nickname more than the thought of that huge and intimidating cock being inside of me.

"Well, Ichigo," Grimmjow said, pushing my head until I was forced on my knees, the water still running as I stared up at him, my eyes wide, "I think I should teach you what happens when ya drop soap around here."

I gulped, trying not to stare at Grimmjow's impressive cock. A small patch of wet blue pubic hair greeted me, like a welcome mat for the cock that was nearly a reddish color, the veins prominent as it strained. Shit, I had done all that? Little old me had turned this dangerous dude on so much?

I was almost flattered.

Grimmjow tugged on my hair again, shoving my face into his straining member.

"Start suckin', bitch, and if yer teeth so much as graze it, I'll tear your heart out of that skinny-ass chest."

A part of me (the not gay side) wanted to bite the bastard's dick clean off, while the other (also not-gay) part of me argued that there was no way I could possibly close my jaws effectively enough around the huge cock to accomplish such a task.

I looked up at him again, reaching a hand out to grab the base of his cock, listening to him hiss before I guided the full member into my mouth. I licked at it tentatively, never having tasted one before. I had touched myself plenty of times, but obviously wasn't a contortionist or a freak to have sucked myself off. The skin of the head felt soft, even as the member nearly pulsed in my mouth from the attention.

To my horror, it wasn't exactly an unpleasant experience.

I began tracing my tongue over the pulsing vein along the underside, surprised I was getting such strong reactions from Mr. Bad Ass. He pushed his hips forward, nearly choking me. I pulled back and he growled, pushing my shoulders as he slapped me so hard I saw black dots floating in my vision.

"Did I tell ya ta stop?" he growled, pushing me until I fell back on my ass and hit my head against the wall of the shower. I felt dizzy, but my vision cleared rather quickly as I realized he was spreading my legs.

"N-no!" I panicked, trying to force my legs closed as I tried to turn around and crawl away on my hands and knees.

"Where the fuck you think you're goin'?" he said, sounding slightly amused as he grabbed my hips and pulled me back towards him, "You're a shitty sucker, so let's see how you do in the other department."

He forced a knee between my legs, his knee connected with my exposed anus and making me cry out. Shit, when had that gotten so sensitive?

"Yer fuckin' hard," he announced, spreading my ass cheeks with his large hands. I was on my hands and knees, panicking, hoping he would at least prepare me in some way for what I knew was about to come. Shit shit shit shit shit.

And even more shit, I WAS hard. I whined at the realization, which made Grimmjow laugh as I felt his penis probe at my unprepared entrance, "Hope ya like it rough, berry bitch, cuz water and soap's all yer gonna get from me."

I absolutely screamed as he thrust into me, feeling like he had just torn my ass in half. I clawed at the tiles on the floor, muscle spasms raking my legs as I tried to breathe.

"Fuckin' relax," he ordered, slapping one of my ass cheeks hard enough to leave a mark.

And oh, but some sick, little perverted part of me had really liked that. The sting in my ass cheek took my mind off of the pain of Grimmjow's rude cock, and I straightened my arms out in front of me, locking them in place as I fought the sensation happening inside of my body, "Shit."

Grimmjow began to pump slowly, which surprised me, but not for long because soon he was slapping against me, grunting as I tried to keep my yelling and screaming in my head. But that was just not meant to be, because Grimmjow laughed and cackled nearly every time I let a noise out.

"Yeah, you like that, don'tcha?" he asked, snapping his hips forward and brushing something deep inside of me that made me gasp and shudder and made my toes curl and nearly made my arms give out.

Sweet Kami, my dick had become painfully hard at the sensation, my nipples even tightening as I breathed ragged and hard, "Hahhhn…f-fuck…"

"Slut," Grimmjow spat, pulling out of me so quickly and violently I whimpered. He flipped me over, slamming my back quite painfully against the cold tile as he pulled my legs up, my knees pushed back by his hands, nearly over his shoulders as he adjusted himself again.

The pain was just as bad as the first time as he pushed in, making me scream a stream of curses as he continued his assault against my body, my erection rubbing against his chest every time he thrust into me.

The pain was tinged with pleasure every time he brushed that bundle of nerves inside of me, making me mewl like the little whore he claimed me to be. My head fell back as my arms began grasping at Grimmjow's elbows, digging into the skin there as my hips began to move instinctually against him.

I wanted him to find that spot again. If I had to do this, I had better get some fucking enjoyment out of it, especially since it was my ass that would be hurting tomorrow. Brush that spot, brush that spot…God, I couldn't take much more if he didn – "_FUCK_!"

I screamed, my back arching me nearly completely off of the floor as Grimmjow's cock had hit my prostate dead on, my muscles tightening around Grimmjow's length enough to make him moan.

"Fuck, yer tighter than a woman," Grimmjow crooned, rocking into me at an incredible pace as he laughed, "Yer so tight and hot, yer fuckin' clamping down on me like a bitch in heat!"

"G-uh, G_ahhh_," I couldn't come up with any more brilliant comebacks as he struck that place inside of me again, and again, and again, my body positively shaking as I reached my hand to my neglected cock and gave it one vicious tug, cumming over both of our stomachs nearly instantly.

Apparently my orgasm clamped my muscles enough to nearly tear Grimmjow's dick in half. Fucking bastard deserved it, but he nearly howled as he continued to pump into me, his breathing hard and hot as he came, filling me so completely I immediately felt dirty for our actions, even as I lay in a shower and some soap suds.

He pulled out of me immediately, cum flowing between my legs and sticky on my thighs. It was the grossest sensation I had ever felt, although there was such a throbbing coming from my entrance that I couldn't even care about the unhygienic state of things.

Grimmjow pulled out, leaning in towards me, his teeth attacking the side of my neck.

"_Fuck_!" I growled, pushing at him as I felt him break the skin. What the hell was he doing? I might have been a little turned on by the slap on the ass earlier, but I wasn't into biting. The fucker had drawn blood. He pulled back, licking his lips as he stared at his handy work, pushing my face to the side, "I always mark my bitch. Don't expect anything else: I don't kiss, I don't cuddle, and I sure as hell don't suck cock."

I stared at him defiantly, my ass starting to feel like it was on fire, "You didn't have to bite so hard, ass hole. I don't want rabies."

He leered at me, patting my cheek roughly before standing up and walking away from me, "I'm fuckin' clean, Strawberry. A lot of other bastards in this shit hole can't say that, so you'd better be grateful."

Grateful? I had just been raped in a fucking prison shower room, the stuff of nightmares, and this cocky bastard was walking away, tall and proud like he had just done me a favor or saved the fucking day?

Damn him, damn him straight to hell.

I move, shifting my position so that I am sitting cross-legged on the nasty-ass shower floor, letting the cold water continue to soothe my heated skin, my ass soothed by the ice-like contact to the floor. Thank Kami I was finally alone: from the feel of my ass, looked like I'd be in here for a while.

**XXX**

"So how was he?" Gin asked, that eternal thin smile on his face as he leaned against the wall of the large cell.

Grimmjow had just been escorted back by a guard, the metal bars clanging deafeningly as they closed, the guard walking away to shut down the block's electricity for the night.

Grimmjow pulled a thick wad of yen bills from his jumper's pocket, tossing it to his cell and gang mate, "I think I'm gonna have ya recruit 'em all from now on, Ichimaru."

Gin chuckled as the alarm buzzer went off, the blocked cells now plunged into the darkness that was Las Noches.

**Phew! Done! ~wipes forehead~ I don't know how I feel about it being first-person perspective, but I wanted to try it, considering I've never done it before. And fyi, prison leaders are called shut calls, lol. A little bit of info for you guys, heehe. So how'd it go? Is it a decent one-shot? I've never done a one-shot before! Kind of exciting for me haha PLEASE REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Remember, I told you: there's just no plot. I don't even know how I thought of this, but I hope you still enjoy it nonetheless. Thanks! ~TPP**

**Oh, p.s: I decided to color-code the jail jumpsuits, because picturing Bleach characters in orange jumpsuits makes me think of Naruto. So, the colors are ranked:**

**Orange – 1-5 year sentence **

**Green – 5-20 year sentence **

**Blue – 30+ year sentence**

**White – Life sentence / dangerous / aggressive (basically hold all the power in Los Noches, bitches). ;D**

**Black – Life sentence / mental ward /dangerous / aggressive (because I can have fun with this, heehee)**

**Also, the rating is still M, but it's a more darker theme now, I guess? All I'm going to say is…I have a sick mind? xD**

**Don't Drop The Soap**

_'I do know one thing, though: bitches they come, they go_

_Saturday through Sunday, Monday; Monday through Sunday, yo_

_Maybe I'll love you one day; maybe we'll someday grow_

_'Till then why don't you sit your drunk ass on that runway ho.'_

_–"Superman" by Eminem_

**Chapter 2: Is He Nuts? No, He's Insane.**

Gin's ever-present smirk was affixed to his face as the purple-eyed bitch below him sucked for all he was worth. Gin was beginning to become uncomfortable being on his knees: Luppi was the only bitch in Los Noches Penitentiary that took his role to a whole other level. He had been in here for over two years: it only made logical sense for the girlish boy to have adopted a brainwashed attitude.

Luppi's throat constricted as he moaned, Ulquiorra Schiffer pounding into Luppi's little tight ass, his face a blank, bored expression that made Gin chuckle.

"Ya look so bored, Ulqui-kun," Gin said, gripping Luppi's hair tightly to remind him to keep sucking even as he was being nearly torn in half by the often emotionless Espada.

"I am bored," Ulquiorra answered, driving into Luppi faster now and groaning low in his throat as he came inside of the now-spasming Luppi.

The vibrations from Luppi's throat sent Gin over the edge and he pulled out of Luppi's mouth quickly, making sure his white hot seed spurted all over Luppi's post-orgasmic face.

"W-wow," Luppi laughed, tugging on his own neglected member quickly and cumming with a cry.

Gin lifted Luppi's chin, his crimson eyes on Luppi's purple ones, "Lick it up, mah lil' bitch."

"Kay," he giggled, his tongue darting out to clean up the mess Gin had left on his face. He giggled again as he wiped what he couldn't reach on his fingers and sucked them clean before wrapping his arms around Gin's shoulders and pouting, cum still dripping from his ass. Ulquiorra had still not moved from his place on the floor of the storage closet.

Yeah, maybe it wasn't the cleanest place to be fucking, but it was one of the few rooms Gin and Grimmjow had managed to find that didn't have security cameras. They paid off the janitor and he would skitter off for a few hours so Gin could use the room as a whore house, charging various inmates to have fun with a few of his choice bitches. Ulquiorra was a friend of his, so he had allowed him to have a go with Luppi as long as Gin got to watch.

Of course Ulquiorra didn't mind; he never seemed to have a say about anything, just always staring with those giant green eyes of his that held a deeper intelligence than half the people in this place. If Gin hadn't read the prison records for himself, he would have never known what a meticulous and practical killer Ulquiorra had been before getting himself caught.

And Gin's most profitable bitch was still pouting at him, now trying to straddle his legs, "Gin-sama, will you fuck me now? I miss you. You never fuck me anymore!"

Gin smirked, running a hand along Luppi's cheek, "Yer a greedy lil' bitch, ain'tcha? But I don't wanna fuck 'ya right now, kay? Maybe tamarra'. Right now, I need'ja ta' be a good lil' boy and go shower. Remember what I told 'ya…"

"I know," Luppi sighed, kissing his master quickly on the mouth before standing up shakily, "No free fucks."

"Tha's a good boy," Gin said, standing up and rewarding Luppi with a French kiss. Luppi moaned into his mouth, hiccupping as Gin pulled away from him, "Now run that lil' ass 'ta the showers and get some sleep. Ya got a long night ta'night."

"Kay, Gin-sama," Luppi sighed happily, donning the ridiculous small orange jumpsuit. He was so small he was nearly child-like as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Gin's slitted eyes fell on the recovering Ulquiorra, his body slick with sweat as he returned his breathing to normal. His white jumpsuit hadn't been removed all the way, but the top had been pushed off and back, exposing cream-white smooth skin and abs, his spent cock still free of the jumper's zipper pants.

Gin made his way over, his fingers itching to run over that smooth skin, "Are ya unsatisfied, Ulqui-kun?"

"You know the answer to that," Ulquiorra said drily, sitting up, his legs splayed in front of him as he supported his weight on his forearms, his eyes hungry.

"Mah mah," Gin said, his hands resting on Ulquiorra's knees and pushing them to the sides as he slipped up Ulquiorra's body, "Never happy, huh? Still hungry fer more, hm?"

Ulquiorra shivered as Gin ghosted his tongue on the shell of his ear, working down his neck until he bit playfully at the exposed collarbone, "We're hollow, Ichimaru. We're always hungry."

Gin chuckled, one of his hands grasping the base of Ulquiorra's cock and making him moan. Nobody would ever guess that the intimidating Espada was actually more of a submissive. Of course he could fuck, but Gin had been giddy to find out he preferred to be fucked, and Gin was never one to turn down a needy uke.

And Ulquiorra came from nobility; his family had been loaded. He wouldn't let just anybody fuck him. A lot of people hated him in Los Noches for his scathing words, calling most of the inmates "worthless trash".

Ulquiorra only allowed people with power to fuck him, and Gin had qualified for the job nearly the moment he had been admitted into the institution.

"Don't tease me," Ulquiorra growled, his fingers tightening on Gin's hips, "Just fuck me, ass hole."

"Now now, Ulqui-kun. No need 'ta call me names," Gin murmured, squeezing Ulquiorra's cock hard enough to make him hiss in a pleasurable pain, "I think ya owe me an apology."

Gin could wait forever: it was so much fun watching Ulquiorra's eyes try to burn holes through Gin's forehead. It was one thing Ulquiorra's pride was all he had in this God-forsaken place. He never apologized, never showed weakness.

"I apologize," he finally said, arching up into Gin as he began to suck on Ulquiorra's pert nipples, "Hnnn, Gin, please, just…"

"I will," Gin laughed, kissing Ulquiorra and biting his lower lip before sliding the rest of Ulquiorra's jumpsuit off of him. He spread Ulquiorra's legs out more effectively, positioning his newly-awakened cock at Ulquiorra's unprepared entrance. Another perk of Ulquiorra: he was an absolute masochist, and it turned Gin the hell on, "and I'm gonna take 'ma time, Ulqui-kun, 'cuz tha's one thing you and I are never gonna run out of here."

Ulquiorra hissed as Gin pushed ball's deep into his ass, adjusting himself accordingly before laughing, "This is the las' time, though. There's a new lil' one I got my eye on and he's tha' only one tha' seems ta' satisfy me anymore."

**XXX Two Months Later**

_'Fucker tried ta' bite my face off_

_I just got fuckin' chased off by a chainsaw_

_Then he took the chainsaw and bit the fuckin' blades off_

_Ate the blades, took a baseball and a slingshot_

_Then he aimed at his own face and let the thing pop_

_Took his eye out, picked it up and played ping-pong_

_Then he played ping-pong with his own ding-dong_

_Man that motherfucker's got nuts like King Kong.'_

_–Eminem "Insane"_

"Stay away from them," the ice-haired kid named Toshiro whispered to Ichigo in the cafeteria, "don't go near the black. They're mental."

"Aren't the whites mental too?" Ichigo murmured back, his eyes trailing the few white jumpsuits that had just walked into the cafeteria. Grimmjow, Nnoitra, Gin, and Ulquiorra had just walked in together, making Ichigo's mouth go dry.

He'd been at Los Noches for a little over two months at this point, and Grimmjow had banged him hard almost every day. He had gotten used to the rough treatment, but had begged his new master to get some kind of lubricant. Grimmjow had laughed at him and called him a pussy, but he'd gotten his man to smuggle some in and now Ichigo's sex life wasn't that bad. In fact, he was quickly becoming quite the masochistic uke. Grimmjow wasn't complaining either.

And Grimmjow wore white, and he wasn't what Ichigo would deem mentally stable.

"No, these are the real freaks," Hitsugaya whispered, his eyes on his half-eaten tray of food, "They belong in the mental ward, but in this hell pit, the guards don't care. As long as they're not skinning people alive, they're allowed to be out and around the other inmates. They're highly unstable and can go off at any time, especially when…"

"When what?"

"When they're horny," Hitsugaya's eyes settled on Gin Ichimaru and he shivered slightly at the eye contact. Gin was smiling at him pleasantly, making his way over to the table.

"How's ma lil' Icicle?" Gin asked, leaning in towards Hitsugaya as he tried not to hyperventilate.

"F-fine," Hitsugaya breathed, his entire body shaking as Gin ran a hand through his fine, spiked white hair.

"Still so jumpy," Gin grinned, "Aren't'cha happy with me, lil' one? Or do 'ya want me 'ta give 'ya to one of the others?"

"N-no!" Hitsugaya defended, his little fists now tight on the front of Gin's white jumpsuit, "I want to stay with you. You know I do."

"Good," Ichimaru praised, kissing Hitsugaya on the forehead quickly, "I'd be pretty upset if 'ya wanted 'ta leave me. I gave up all my others fer you, didn't I?"

Hitsugaya nodded furiously, his fingers still in the front of Gin's jumper.

"You did?" Ichigo sounded absolutely stunned.

Gin nodded, "How do ya say it? We got feelin's fer each other. At least, I think we do. It don' matter though: lil' Hitsu-chan's only got four more years in this place, while I've got life with no chance of bail. He'll ferget all about me when he gets out."

"N-no I won't," Hitsugaya said, his face suddenly furious, "I won't, Gin. As soon as I get out, I'm going to kill that bitch Momo who betrayed me and got me in here in the first place. And first-degree murder gets at least twenty years, baby."

Gin snickered, kissing Hitsugaya on the forehead again, "Ah, I love ya, Hitsu-chan."

"I love you to," Hitsugaya murmured, hugging Gin's middle tightly before Gin pulled away and waved to the two little friends before disappearing to the white tables.

Ichigo stared at Hitsugaya's flushed face before Hitsugaya punched Ichigo in the arm, "Don't judge me, ass hole. He took me in the second I got here; he cares for me. He really does. It's fucking real, and I don't want to hear what you have to say."

Ichigo held up his hands, "Whoa, chill. No judging here. I think it's rad that you're willing 'ta kill for your man."

Hitsugaya grinned, "This place changes you, Ichigo. When you find something to live for, killing isn't evil. It's necessary."

Ichigo went back to his meal, wondering how long it would take for him to change his mind about the prison like little Hitsugaya.

**XXX** **9 Months Later**

Ichigo hadn't even seen the black jumper before it was too late.

He had been on his way to the shower room where Grimmjow had said he would meet him, when all of a sudden he ran into a solid wall of black jumpsuit and incredibly pale skin.

Ichigo shivered as the man cackled like a hyena. Ichigo stared up at Shirosaki, one of the creepiest inmates in the jail. His inverted eyes made him look like a demon, his pale skin and white hair natural, like his blue tongue. Ichigo suspected the psycho had had it permanently dyed somehow, and he wouldn't even begin to imagine how crazy the dude had to be to have all that eye surgery and coloring done to his eyes.

Although Ichigo had to admit, it was kinda kinky hot.

"Looky looky what I found," Shirosaki said, staring down at Ichigo before sitting on his haunches, his black nails reaching out to rake across Ichigo's chest, "yer a pretty lil' strawberry. Grimm-kitty told me 'ta stay away from 'ya, but I don't think I'm gonna listen 'ta him anymore."

Ichigo couldn't help thinking that he only had a month left in this cess pool of scum human life, and he wouldn't let this little pecker fuck up his last moments of survival. Shirosaki had the worst reputation in the jail for having an extremely violent and quick temper. Ichigo couldn't argue with this one; he'd be dead before he could run anyway.

"What do you want?" Ichigo said calmly, trying to keep Shirosaki in his right mind.

Shirosaki laughed again, now straddling Ichigo's hips, his hands fisted in Ichigo's collar, "I wanna fuck 'ya. Wha' else would I want from 'ya, stupid?"

"Grimmjow will…"

"I don' think Grimmjow will care," Shirosaki said, producing a small knife seemingly out of thin air and holding it to Ichigo's throat, "lil' Zangetsu here thinks tha' same thing."

"Fuck," Ichigo murmured, realizing this was the first time someone had pulled a weapon on him. A few inmates had been shanked over his stay here, but Ichigo had never been present for any of them. The thought of this ass hole killing him a month before his release made him want to throw up.

"Not here," Ichigo murmured, trying to talk some sense into the mental albino, "We should go somewhere else."

Shirosaki cackled before helping Ichigo stand up, the blade disappearing back into his jumper, "I like how 'ya think, Strawberry."

Shirosaki grabbed his arm and forced him along down the winding white passageways until they came to the cellblock that housed the criminally insane. Ichigo was suddenly pushed into an unoccupied side-cell that was bigger than his and housed a single bunk.

"Welcome 'ta hell," Shirosaki announced grandly, pushing Ichigo onto the ground and beginning to work the jumpsuit off, "I'm yer guide, Shiro. Please unfasten yer seatbelts and keep yer legs and ass firmly up in the air at all times."

Ichigo's body stiffened as Shiro's hands began to rove over his body, not entirely unpleasant but Shiro's hands were cold.

"Yer so pretty," Shirosaki breathed, a maniacal grin lighting up his face as he raked his nails down Ichigo's chest, making him scream as he drew blood, "I can fix tha'."

Ichigo began to kick and tried to roll as Shiro's nails continued to assault his abs, moving lower to grip like iron on his hips. Ichigo bucked his hips as Shiro rubbed his clothed erection against the berry, making him gasp.

"I'm gonna make ya ferget yer name," Shiro promised, licking blood off of Ichigo's chest as he continued to grind forcefully against Ichigo, "I'm gonna make ya lose yer mind with want. Yer never gonna wanna leave once we're done with you."

Ichigo stiffened, his eyes wide with fear as he saw shadows moving around the room.

Ichigo whined as he saw Nnoitra step forward, his smile demonic as he stared at the bleeding berry. A large black jumper shadow entered the cell, a creep, giant of a man named Kenpachi Zaraki.

Ichigo's heart stopped beating in his chest as the last shadow stepped forward, his grin absolutely ferocious as he approached Ichigo and Shirosaki, his face hovering over Ichigo as he screamed.

"Yer gonna love it," Grimmjow husked, grabbing Ichigo's hair roughly and running his tongue along the side of his face, "Yer gonna love it here."

**Alright! I know I'm evil but I'm tired and at least I updated when I said I was going to update! (Alright, 1 DAY LATE, but it's because my internet was so messed up it wouldn't let me.) To make you all feel better, the next (and last) chapter is almost nothing but smut. HAHAHAHAHA ~falls over dead from exhaustion~ PLEASE REVIEW! Uh, also, if you're wondering about my updating schedule or curious about my other stories, please check out my profile for more info. ;P**


	3. Chapter 3

**The last and final installment. The story was originally under Romance/Humor, but now I suppose you could throw it under Romance/Angst. Quite a difference, I'm sure. I hope you enjoy it, even if it isn't what most of you might have been expecting. Sorry for the disastrously long wait. –TPP**

**Don't Drop The Soap**

Chapter Three: Prisoner For Life

_"I'm gonna make ya ferget yer name," Shiro promised, licking blood off of Ichigo's chest as he continued to grind forcefully against Ichigo, "I'm gonna make ya lose yer mind with want. Yer never gonna wanna leave once we're done with you."_

_Ichigo stiffened, his eyes wide with fear as he saw shadows moving around the room._

_Ichigo whined as he saw Nnoitra step forward, his smile demonic as he stared at the bleeding berry. A large black jumper shadow entered the cell, a creep, giant of a man named Kenpachi Zaraki._

_Ichigo's heart stopped beating in his chest as the last shadow stepped forward, his grin absolutely ferocious as he approached Ichigo and Shirosaki, his face hovering over Ichigo as he screamed._

_"Yer gonna love it," Grimmjow husked, grabbing Ichigo's hair roughly and running his tongue along the side of his face, "Yer gonna love it here."_

**XXX**

Ichigo jolted awake, sucking in deep lungfuls of air as he tried to contain his panic.

That dream again. Why was it always that dream?

Ever since coming to Las Noches Penitentiary he had had multiple nightmares about being gang-raped, but this one was always the most horrendous.

"You awake?" Grimmjow grumbled from the top bunk, his voice somehow soothing in his distress. With all the connections Grimm had in the prison, it hadn't been hard for him to get his favorite bitch to share a cell. Gin, his second in command, had gladly moved to Ichigo's old cell, the one he had shared with Toshiro Hitsugaya. It had been extremely convenient for the two overwhelming lovers, but Ichigo was still trying to adjust to being with his protector nearly every hour of every day. They had grown closer as time went on, Ichigo's release barely a month away now, and Ichigo was actually struggling with the fact that he had actually developed fucking feelings for the hardened blue-haired bastard.

Whether Grimmjow returned any of those feelings was still a mystery. He was still gruff, still rough, but Ichigo had noticed over the course of the past couple weeks that he had become much more accommodating. When Ichigo was upset, Grimmjow would just snuggle up against him, and most mornings, he'd wake up to a kiss on the lips and nothing else. Fear of him had been thrown out the window over two months ago, however, Ichigo was reminded quite often how violent the con could still be.

Their relationship as lovers was like barbed wire.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Ichigo said automatically, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Didn't ask how you were," Grimmjow shot back, suddenly jumping down from his bunk and staring in at the orange head. It was dark as hell, the entire cellblock cast in darkness until the six a.m. roll call.

"Whatever," he mumbled back, his body feeling like it was coiled and ready for flight. He was too tense to go back to sleep.

"Well, since 'yer awake…" Grimmjow trailed off, his body weight suddenly settling on top of Ichigo until he was forced to lay back again, "How 'bout I put'cha back 'ta sleep?"

Ichigo huffed in annoyance as Grimmjow's breath coasted over his face, right as his large tongue began laving along the side of his throat, down to his collarbone.

"Grimmjow, no, I'm still sore from last night…" Ichigo began, feeling anger build in his gut. Christ, hadn't he just woken from a rape nightmare?

Grimmjow growled deep in his throat, making Ichigo's spine tingle, "Aw come on, 'ya know I take care of 'ya. I treat'cha good, don't I?"

Grimmjow's question was met with silence.

"Don't I?" Grimmjow repeated darkly, palming Ichigo through his loose jumper.

"Christ, Grimm, get off," Ichigo begged, hands against Grimmjow's broad chest, "Please."

Grimmjow seemed to contemplate, which was rare for the blue-haired beast. Ichigo waited with bated breath, hoping that this would be one of the rare moments Grimmjow would show he could be human and honor his wishes.

"I ain't a fuckin' rapist," Grimmjow finally conceded, rolling onto his side next to Ichigo. Ichigo let out a small sigh. He rolled onto his side to face Grimm, moving his hand in the darkness to smooth over his face and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips.

"Thank you," he whispered, snuggling into Grimmjow's chest.

"Nothin' 'ta be thankful for," Grimmjow said gruffly with a hint of pleasure, "You'll make up for it tomorrow, ne?"

**XXX**

"Ah! Shit! Nnnghf," Ichigo bit into his own wrist to quiet his screams, Grimmjow far from finished with him. He had promised Ichigo that he would make up for it later, and he sure as hell was now.

"Look at'cha, covered in 'yer own cum, screaming like a bitch. Just sick," Grimmjow murmured, rotating his hips as he found Ichigo's prostate again and jabbing against it quickly, "Fuckin' cum slut. I'm gonna fill 'ya up 'till 'ya explode with my cum."

The sick, demeaning dirty talk went straight to Ichigo's dick. Before, he would have been ashamed at the talk and his reactions, but now it was engrained in his body and his mind. He arched his back right off of his coat, the metal springs protesting the weight and force of Grimmjow's powerful thrusts.

Grimmjow dug his nails into Ichigo's hips as he slowed, focusing on burying himself as far into the warm heat as possible, making Ichigo grunt at the sudden blunt force of his thick cock being buried so deep.

"You want it?" Grimmjow hissed into Ichigo's ear, drawing back and pushing forward with a hard snap of his hips, making Ichigo scream, "Ya want me 'ta fuck 'ya until cum comes out 'yer eye sockets?"

"Y-yes," Ichigo gasped, his hands buried in Grimmjow's thick blue hair. It was growing much longer now, nearly reaching his mid-back. Ichigo was just as turned on by the blue hair as he was by the sinfully gorgeous con's body. He practically hummed in pleasure as he felt his own inner muscles tighten dangerously around Grimmjow's hot cock, waiting for his lover to lose his load, "Gimme it. Gimme all of it, Grimm."

The sultry dirty words was enough to make Grimmjow hiss out a breath and slam into him repeatedly, drawing Ichigo's legs up over his shoulders. Ichigo let out another wild yell as Grimmjow grunted, finally releasing deep inside Ichigo, making Ichigo shake like he'd been zapped by a stun gun.

In that blinding moment of white light, Ichigo knew that this, whatever this was, was enough.

The post-coital bliss lasted much longer than usual. Instead of Grimmjow getting up and tidying himself up before passing out on his own mattress, he actually stayed by Ichigo's side, running his hands along Ichigo's sweaty chest, over his abdoment, over his hip, as if memorizing the flesh he had come to know so intimately over the course of a year.

"Ya go home soon," Grimmjow finally murmured, his hand finally stopping over Ichigo's rapidly beating heart, "What'cha gonna do once 'yer outta this hell hole?"

Ichigo didn't answer right away, instead enjoying the feeling of Grimmjow's rough hand over his frantically beating heart, "Don't know. Go back to school, I guess."

More silence before Grimmjow shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable in the confining space, his hand now resting over Ichigo's flat belly, "Then what?"

He sounded genuinely curious, which made a small smile appear on Ichigo's lips. Was this the true lover's pillow talk he'd heard so much about in the outside world? Ichigo barely remembered the outside world now.

"I don't know, Grimm, what most people do, I guess."

Grimmjow snorted, "We ain't normal, Ichi."

Ichigo couldn't help but snort an agreement before thinking seriously, and it kind of depressed him a little, "Meet a girl. Settle down. Have a couple kids. Watch them grow up while I grow old myself. Play some golf, maybe watch my diet. Then I die, I guess."

"Sounds boring."

"It probably will be," Ichigo conceded with a smirk before turning to face Grimmjow in the darkness. It was still too dark to really make each other's features out, but Ichigo knew what was there: a proud forehead, chiseled cheekbones, searing blue eyes, a strong jaw, "but what else is there?"

Ichigo knew Grimmjow shrugged, "All I know is if I had a chance of gettin' outta' here, I sure as hell wouldn't settle down. I'd never be restricted by four walls again."

Ichigo huffed a laugh, "I wanna eat a pizza. A giant-ass fucking pizza covered in mushrooms and green peppers."

"Ice cream," Grimmjow replied, his voice deeply serious, "I'd get fat on ice cream. I'd buy a truckload of it."

"Always wanted to travel. Australia, Egypt…"

"America…"

"Germany…"

"Fuck Germany," Grimmjow growled, sinking his teeth into Ichigo's shoulder before licking the wound in apology, "my old man was from Germany."

In all their time together, this was the first time Grimmjow had offered up any information about his past, especially his family. Of course Ichigo knew most of the crimes that had landed the drug-pushing murderer in here, but he'd never even once talked about his family or even confirmed if he even had any.

It was a revelation that was genuinely touching.

"Was he a prick?" Ichigo asked in experimentation.

Ichigo didn't expect Grimmjow to snuggle against him, his chin resting on top of Ichigo's head. They were both disgusting, covered in each other's fluids, but neither minded in the late hours, the coldness basking them in a peace neither could find with anybody else.

Ichigo was nearly asleep when Grimmjow answered, "He was just like me."

**XXX**

Ichigo stared at the clock in the mess hall. He had hours until he was cleaned up and ushered out of here to the warden's office, where they would process him and finally set him free.

Only a handful of hours, and he already knew what he was going to do.

He'd been staring at a fellow inmate for a good twenty minutes, assessing him.

He wasn't a Soul Reaper, but he was under the protection of a head Soul Reaper.

Ichigo ran his hand over the small, rusted blade in his jumper pocket, a blade he'd had to practically sell his soul to get his hands on.

Apparently that dream had meant something to his subconscious. He'd had to give himself to the demon Shirosaki while the sick bastard Nnoitra Jiruga watched to get his hand on this blade, and with Grimmjow none the wiser.

And that was what had truly hurt: knowing he had had to betray Grimmjow to get his hands on a weapon, a weapon he wouldn't have been able to get otherwise.

Grimmjow had no idea what he was about to do, and he was thankful that Grimmjow was currently on the other side of the mess hall, already sitting down at a table and eating, waiting for his lover who was currently standing in line for some food.

The short, slender bitch that belonged to Tousen was only a few people in front of him.

He was weak. Sickly. This would be easy, and then they would have to keep him. He would be a murderer, a dangerous murderer and he'd have to stay here forever.

Ichigo looked at the clock one more time before moving forward a step, hand still in his pocket, intent on his kill.

The moment he went to withdraw the blade, Ichigo felt a cold grip on his wrist, staying him.

"Na, I wouldn' do tha'," Ichimaru Gin said silkily, knowing perfectly well what Ichigo's intentions had been, "Not a good idea, lil' brother. It won't be pretty, not for anyone."

"Let go," Ichigo whispered heatedly, knowing he was going to miss his opportunity if he waited any longer, "I have to do this."

Gin's smile nearly cut his face in half, his eyes completely hidden, "Ya need 'ta be free, Ichi. Even if it's just for a lil' while. Don't throw it all away."

Ichigo felt himself calming at the snake's words, even as he looked across the mess hall to stare at blue hair.

The moment the blade left his jumper pocket in Ichimaru's fingers, looking like it disappeared into thin air, Ichigo felt empty.

**XXX **_**6 YEARS LATER…**_

"Did'ja here?"

"Na, what'cha talkin' 'bout?"

"They sent _Him_ here."

"Who's _Him_?"

"They say he's bein' moved 'ta the Hollow Ward. Too dangerous."

"…The Tensa Killer…"

"Ya heard?"

"Who the fuck hasn't?"

Grimmjow ignored the endless chatter around the cell block, not interested in what the fellow criminals had to say about their newest recruit.

He was supposedly Karakura's most notorious serial killer in recorded history. His death toll had been well into the double digits before he allowed himself to finally be caught.

Gin had kept him informed about the different rumors, but the most popular was that the creep wore a strange white bone mask with red scratches on the side every time he made a kill. What was even more crazy was the weapon he used to kill his victims: Grimmjow had snorted thinking there were modern day samurai running around. The kid killed with fucking swords called zanpakuto.

One of their most recent convicts, a scared little bitch by the name of Hanatarou, had been terrified to even talk about him. Said he was becoming a legend due to his brutal killings, and his even more macabre calling card: a jawbone.

Every victim the killer took was found with an animal jawbone at the scene of the crime.

Grimmjow smirked: had to give the kid his credit, he knew how to fucking make a statement.

"Well ain't this interestin'," Gin said with his ever-present grin, staring at his longtime cell mate and best friend. They'd gone back to being cellmates after Ichigo's release a little over six years ago, although he still got plenty of time with his lover Toshiro. Grimmjow had taken to fucking the psychopath from the Disturbed Ward, a young albino by the name of Shirosaki. Grimmjow had always been wary of the freak, but when Ichigo left, he'd just looked so much like the orange head Grimmjow hadn't known what to do with himself.

"Just another monster," Grimmjow replied.

**XXX**

The Tensa Killer was brought to his solitary cell in full body shackles, the four guards rounding him into the cell with automatic weapons and tasers. The bravest one unlocked the metal connector chains, although his hands and feet were still restricted from decent movement.

The collar was removed from his neck and he smirked at the guards as they slammed the bolts into place.

"Get comfy, Tensa, 'cuz 'yer not goin' anywhere," one of the burly guards said.

Ichigo read his nametag passively before he cracked his neck and stared at the lowly guard like he was a child.

"So, Ganju, tell me…" the demon said, leaning against the cold metal bars, his bright orange hair a fiery mane down his back, his piercing brown orbs boring into the guard as he revealed surgically-filed teeth, "who's the shut-call around here?"

The guard flinched at the killer's predatory gaze before replying, "I'm sure if you play nice, you'll find out soon enough. Can't believe the warden's willin' 'ta let 'ya out after a couple months of good behavior."

The demon smiled pleasantly, rattling his chains slightly, "Oh I'm good at waiting, pig. I waited six years 'ta see him again. A couple'a months ain't nothing."

The guard hit the bars with his nightstick, trying to gain back a sense of control. The killer simply stared back at him, the black, gray, and white jawbones that were tattooed across his neck and collarbones clashed brilliantly with the brightness of his hair and paleness of his skin.

"Shut the fuck up, Kurosaki."

**XXX**

About a week later, Grimmjow was smoking quietly with Gin in the rec room.

"So my connect told me somethin' interestin' the other day," Gin started conversationally, blowing smoke out of his nostrils as he smiled widely at Grimmjow.

"Oh yeah?" Grimmjow replied, not really caring. Grimmjow didn't pay much attention to Gin's little network: he had his nose in most guards' business, so he was an asset when Grimmjow wanted something, but the only thing Grimmjow had been craving for the past six years was outside of this hell on earth. Kurosaki was probably soaking up sun on some beach somewhere. At least Grimmjow had been daydreaming of that scenario lately. Fucking Ichigo in the sand while they listened to the waves crash on the shore was one luxury Grimmjow knew he would never be able to afford. It stung.

"Yah," Gin said, stubbing out his cigarette while slitting open one eye, "The newbie, the serial killer with tha' jawbones. Don't'cha think it's a bit coincidental, Grimm_jow?"_

Grimmjow shrugged, "Maybe the ass hole's German."

Gin snickered until Grimmjow punched him in the shoulder.

"Ne, fine, I won't tell 'ya then."

"Fuck you. Tell me," Grimmjow said, lighting another cigarette as his friend smirked like a hyena.

"So my boy said he's got this bright, orange hair..."

**THE END.**

**I'd really appreciate some reviews! Now to catch up on my other stories that haven't been updated in a fucking year… -TPP**


	4. SequeL

**Hey.**

**Guess what?**

**I decided to make a sequel. I re-read this story and I don't know why I jumped out of this AU 'verse so fast. I really like it, and I want to work on something dark without having to create a whole new 'verse.**

**So it'll be up soon, I promise. Here's an excerpt from the nearly finished first chapter.**

* * *

**DDTS: Cat In The Cradle**

**Part 1.**

Ichigo sat silent as a stone as the man continued to shave his face, unable to move due to the arm, leg, and ankle restraints. The only real power he had at the moment was the ability to move his head. He'd always preferred a clean-shaven appearance, but it wasn't nearly as fun when someone else had to do it for him.

The big man's hands weren't shaking nearly as much now as when they had started.

He tended to forget how scared people were of him, of his name alone. Besides, physically, he looked worlds' different from his one year sentence six and a half years ago. Very few had gotten the look in their eyes, the sense that they were experiencing déjà vu.

Oh yes. The warden had left him to rot in high-security solitary confinement for four months before allowing him to roam free in the Disturbed Ward for an hour a day. He played nice. He had run into Shirosaki in the first week and the albino had to be sedated due to his uncontrollable bursts of hyper laughter. He was put in solitary. Ichigo didn't like that.

Because Shirosaki had a big mouth. Because Shirosaki was supposed to be his little carrier pigeon.

Because Ichigo was shaking, _shaking,_ at the thought of seeing Grimmjow again.

It would be different. It would be perfect.

The dreams, the nightmares…they would all stop soon, soon as he was close to Grimmjow again.

So today's shave was a bit of a pre-celebration: the warden had finally signed him off to be moved to general population. His shackles would stay in effect for probably another month, but Ichigo didn't much mind. He actually preferred it. It would keep him from…well, he hadn't exactly been a saint over the past six years.

After his shave, he would be escorted to the showers and given his new white uniform, the uniform that marked him as the most dangerous. He had been offered the opportunity for a haircut, but he didn't want one. He'd let it grow for so long, and it was his new identity, his new sense of self. He was not Tensa without it.

The man shaving him tensed again, cutting into the flesh right below his chin.

Ichigo forgot people got nervous when he smiled.

He'd paid for his canines to be surgically altered, so he wasn't too upset that the man had cut him in a moment of panic.

The pain was a dull throb anyway. He barely ever felt anything anymore.

"S-sorry," the man warbled, dabbing at the small cut with a piece of paper towel, "I'm really sorry."

Ichigo smirked with his mouth closed.

"Hurry up," he said, his fingers tingling, the heavy metal around his wrists almost comforting, _"Hurry,_ it's almost time."

* * *

**_Don't Drop The Soap: Cat In The Cradle, coming to an imaginary yaoi prison near you ;)_**


End file.
